It is 8:05 on a weekday morning, and I am driving on a highway exit ramp that merges into a busy intersection. A white delivery van suddenly pulls out in front of me, causing me to slam on my brakes. The driver’s head is down, and he is scrolling through his phone, clearly not observing the cars around him. He looks up at the last minute and realizes that he could have caused an accident. I see regret, and a hint of shame, in his face as he lifts four fingers off his steering wheel in an apologetic gesture.
My response is not what he expects. I smile broadly and compassionately and give him an understanding and cheerful wave. He looks at me gratefully and departs for his next dispatch.
I was not always this person. I used to be the queen of road rage, fuming at any driver that sped past me at a high speed. Meandering motorists annoyed me, and tailgaters enraged me. While I prided myself on being a defensive driver, the truth is that I interpreted every inadvertent swerve as an intentional act designed to intimidate me. I would lean on the horn at every perceived motoring slight.
Something changed a couple of years ago. I remember driving west on I-90 one day navigating three rush-hour lanes of busy folks all jostling for positions that would save them, at best, three minutes of commute. A dark, expensive SUV with tinted windows sped past me and then immediately jumped in front of me into my lane. I was forced to abruptly reduce my speed and tap my brakes.
I was angry enough to make a point with my horn, when it occurred to me that I should question my assumption about the driver’s intentions. I surmised that the driver was a self-absorbed jerk, who believed that his or her commuting time was more important than mine. But what if that was not true? What if he was rushing to his frail father’s bedside at a hospital, summoned by an anxious nurse? What if she was driving hastily because there was a security breach at her office and police were awaiting her arrival? What if a passenger in the car was in labor or had suffered a seizure? I realized that I was projecting imperiousness onto the other driver, when possibly none existed.
It was an enlightening moment that has endured. I have become a kindly automotive operator, happily slowing down to allow people to merge in front of me. I sometimes pull over to allow a tailgater to safely pass. I reduce my speed so that lumbering trucks and school buses can change lanes. It is the only way I can demonstrate humanity while locked in my all-metal motorized suit of armor.
So, if you pull out of a parking spot hastily without realizing that you should have waited for me to pass, do not worry. I will likely smile at you and back up, nodding agreeably.
Well, unless you smirk and hit the accelerator and roar off at a high velocity. In that case, I will grit my teeth, channel my serene, inner karma goddess, and send prayers that the local police are poised at the next intersection. I will cruise by, beam at you, and give you a cheery thumbs up as they issue you a traffic ticket.